


Morituri Te Salutamus

by grimmauxillatrix



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Dark, M/M, OR IS HE, Post-Movie(s), hux is punished for his sins, its very ambiguous, kylo ren is redeemed, the end of everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5871247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmauxillatrix/pseuds/grimmauxillatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The First Order has fallen, the remnants scattered. General Hux is dragged out of the ashes, and forced to stand trial for his crimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morituri Te Salutamus

“You may hand us over to the executioner now, but in three months time, the disgusted and harried people will bring you to book, and drag you alive through the dirt in the streets.” 

 

He remembers the words now, as clearly as if it were standing before him in the courtroom once more. The alien speaking had been a member of an underground resistance, on a planet which Hux had led a taskforce to pacify. 

 

Hux had led the tribunal as well, rendering appropriate and merciless judgement upon the the members of the insurrection. All aliens, all refusing to take their rightful place beneath the rule of the human minority on the planet. He’d allowed this one a translator, but it had surprised him by speaking flawless Basic. All for naught, as the prosecution was merciless, the defense non-existent. 

 

Now Hux is on the opposite side of the tribunal, standing stiff and straight-backed before the assembled judges and the spectators, the jury and the lawyers. The Butcher of Worlds, standing trial under the towering pulpits for the destruction of the Hosnian system and the murder of billions.

 

 

He dwells on the alien’s words as the charges are read against him, ignoring the deliberations around him. It had taken much longer than three months, hadn’t it. By his count it was almost seven years since he had pacified the planet. He’d forgotten its name, preoccupied by greater things, all of which had fallen apart with the destruction of Starkiller Base. 

 

Who would have thought that the linchpin would be Kylo Ren. So carefully trained to be the First Order’s attack dog, so carelessly pulled, and he had brought the entire Order down around their ears. 

 

His name was spoken, and he snaps back to reality, staring up at the judges wrapped in robes of red. General Organa was among them, her face drawn tight. Behind her, barely visible, lurked a subdued Kylo Ren, known as Ben Solo once more. The silver glitter of his restraints caught Hux’s eye for a moment before he focused on the lead judge. 

 

“As it was in the ancient times with the traitor Prometheus, so shall it be with you. General Brendol Hux the Second, you shall be cast down into the pit, and be torn apart by the howlrunners. May whatever god you choose have mercy on your soul.”

 

For the first time, he shows a bit of surprise. A blink, before he can control himself. The Resistance was supposed to be merciful, prone to weakness and pity. But this was an old, barbaric punishment, a death sentence from the pre-spacefaring history of the Hosnian system, one which the New Republic and the Resistance had supposedly banned. But the crowd was murmuring, sounding pleased and satisfied. General Organa’s face was drawn and pale, but she showed no dissent. Behind her, Ren had turned an ashen grey and begun to tremble. So weak, from the First Order’s first hound. 

 

Hux says nothing, and he is escorted out of the court room after his execution is scheduled for the dawn of the next day. His final dawn.

 

* * *

 

 

Ren visits him that evening, accompanied by guards. They maintain a respectful distance as the man presses himself against the transparisteel door, mouth against the openings that allow air and sound into the cell. 

 

He looks so detestably pitiful now, hair shorn short and dressed in tan. His arms were cuffed in front of him, chains dangling from the loop around his waist. The Ren that Hux knew would have pulled them apart in an instant, unwilling to tolerate this outrage. 

 

The Resistance had broken Ren more than the First Order ever had. 

 

“Hux,” Ren breathes, now pressing his hands against the transparisteel door. “There’s still a chance for you. If you show regret, or… repentance… or _anything_ , they won’t do it. They’ll commute it to a life sentence. You’ll live and… and stay here, with me.” 

 

He looked so pitiful, so open and desperate that Hux’s heart squeezed for a moment before he buried the emotion and snorted. “Stay here? To be paraded about and made an object of? General Hux, the last remnant of the First Order, look how we have tamed him!” He strides towards the door and slams his first against it, staring into Ren’s eyes. “We have made him soft, they’ll say. He can never harm again, living with the aftermath of his crimes forever. Just as we tamed Kylo Ren.” Spitting the last sentence out, he sneers at Ren. “They have made you weak, you who used to kill my men and break my ship and-“ His voice breaks, betraying him in the heat of his emotion as he is flooded with pity once more. “So merciless.” He hisses, finally regaining control of himself. “And what has become of you now?”

 

Ren has no response, no words, no hissing retort. He just stands there, shoulders slumped, hands still pressed flat and white against the reinforced glass. Before he can say a word, Hux continues with his final shot.

 

 

“They will never forgive you for what you have done, Kylo Ren. For who you have killed, who you have bedded, what you have wrought.” Hux’s cadence is different from his speech making, harsher for the lack of volume. He drops into a mesmerizing whisper, forcing Ren to press closer to the opening to hear, drawing him in only to tear him apart. “They will never forgive you, no matter what your mother says. You will walk through these halls in those cuffs forever, feeling your sins crawling on your back, knowing nothing but the burning hatred of those you seek to reconcile with. And I do not forgive you, no matter what we once shared.” 

 

He stares into Ren’s eyes for one still, icy moment, then turns and steps away. For the rest of the visit he doesn’t turn back, no matter what Ren says or does.

 

* * *

 

 

The following morning came far too quickly, even for a man who didn’t (pretended not to) fear death. He had watched the stars pass through the thin slit of his window, wishing in futility to be back aboard the Finalizer. It was useless, of course. The ship was in chunks, drifting through the void near the Maw. But, in the depths of night, Hux allowed himself to dream.

 

He was led out into the arena by an escort of four guards, dirt swirling up over his boots and covering their carefully polished sheen. He didn’t suppose he would have to worry about that for much longer. 

 

The crowd is eerily silent, allowing the sounds of their footsteps to echo up the walls and among the seats. In the front of the arena, where he is led, there is a box filled with dignitaries. The judge, the remnant leader of surviving Hosnians, General Organa. All there to witness the judgement they have passed. He stares up at them, as unmoving as he was when he had given the order to fire. He sees Kylo Ren stare back, lip bitten to the blood. The sky grows lighter above them. He can hear birds singing.

 

“ Tantes qui moriturus.” The judge pronounces, and Hux can hear a grinding of a gate opening. We salute those who are about to die. The guards must have left. He is alone in the pit. 

 

The crowd began to murmur as Hux turned his face from the regard of the judges and walked out into the middle of the arena. He strode slowly, arms wide open, palms out, as the howlrunners emerged from their cages. It was not in his character to show fear or remorse, not even in this pit.

 

 

The first howlrunner leaps before it has even cleared the cage gate, and its pack follows, bounding across the dirt to where General Hux, defiant to the last, welcomes his sentence with open, trembling arms. His legs give out a moment before the pack leader reaches him.

 

Hux had forgotten what a dawn sky looked like, in all those years in the cold dark of space. The sky was so beautiful. Over the snarls of the howlrunners, he can hear bird song, and a whisper at the edge of his hearing. Arch your head back. He obeys, eyes wide and reflecting the pale lavender of the dawn. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired both by the quote at the beginning from the film Valkyrie, and the in-universe short story from Tales of the Bounty Hunters, Boba Fett: The Last Man Standing. 
> 
> The "howlrunners" in the illustration are a prototype for my own original species, Liminal Dolors. In-universe howlrunners are pack hunters, which works for an ancient punishment.


End file.
